I have been trying to crawl out of a cavern of shame since Friday night. I went to the Black Cat for Cryfest (a Cure/Smiths night) and was having a great time until I had a bit of a fifth drink. There must have been something in that drink, or I was officially over my limit, because all of a sudden the staff was trying to throw me out. It wasn't until this happened that I started to get unruly, demanding that I be allowed to get my coat from upstairs. After telling them exactly where my coat was, that it was long black wool and had a Metro card in the left pocket, I get a short black coat with no pockets. I'm not saying that the staff of the Black Cat is stupid, but after giving the same description to a friend who luckily happened to be outside at the time, he quickly came back with the right coat (Thanks so much Joel, I owe you big). What's worse, after the staff tried to give me the wrong coat, they said I'd have to come back tomorrow and make my way home with no coat or Metro card. They'll have to forgive me for not exactly trusting them to hold onto anything overnight. Even when I was crying outside after being told to come back in the morning, and was not causing any more trouble, they refused to let me back in. I know it's all over now, and it worked out for the best, but I keep thinking; what if things hadn't worked out? What if Joel hadn't been outside? What if I had kept shouting and the staff called the cops and I ended up in jail? All I should be thinking about is how I narrowly escaped a disastrous moment, and what I can learn from it. Drinking has always been a social crutch of mine. I become more talkative and less reserved when I drink, and I try to keep it going. It's caused other problems in the past, mostly sex-related with guys I never should have even talked to, but never anything on this level. I was fine until I started on that fifth drink. A guy who was clearly trying to get in my pants bought it for me, so I have my suspicions, especially after I started acting like a maniac immediately after I took a sip. But it was probably just too much alcohol combined with the natural stress of having to explain myself to an unyielding staff who doesn't appear to be helping. I've told myself before, after yet another disappointing one-night stand, that I will drink less, but it never sticks. I'm hoping that, remembering my embarrassing Friday night, I'll make it stick this time.
Before I went out on Friday, I learned that my grandfather had died after a long, off and on struggle with cancer. It hadn't even hit me when I headed out that my grandfather was dead. He was among my favorite extended relatives, but I can't say we were exactly close. In a perverted way, maybe getting drunk and making an ass of myself was the best way to honor his memory, in the spirit his alcoholic Irish Catholic clan.
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Ok, first, I'm sorry to hear about your grandpa. I fully and totally agree that a night of drunkeness is not only an appropriate, but also a natural way to honor loved ones who have died. Especially after a long illness like your grandfather had. Think about it: drinking until the wee hours is in a way saying, "life is for having fun. It's short, it can be unbearably sad, and we have to let loose when we can." Your grandpa was unable to do those things, and you honor him by having a good time while you can. He wouldn't want you to waste a minute of your life being depressed on the couch. There's too much fun to be had.
That said (and I feel especially qualified to comment here because I am a bartender for a living), I'm sorry that you had a bad night at the bar. Don't blame yourself for overdoing it. I see it all the time. Good people, wanting to maintain that great buzz they have, ordering that one last drink when they know somewhere in their heads that they should stop. Don't be so hard on yourself. It happens all the time. Trust me.
It's also possible that the bartenders noticed the creep-factor of the guy who bought you that last one, and were looking out for you. I've done that before too. Cut off the woman because it was clear that some douchebag had bad intentions and she was becoming unable to hold her own in the situation. It's not really fair, but I want to make sure that she remains safe and in control.
This is just a long-winded way of saying that you shouldn't be too hard on yourself. Reflect on the situation, learn from it, and move on. You don't have time to be depressed on the couch, after all, you've got a life to celebrate!
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